This letter indicates sufficiently his plans for the colony, to carry out which successfully would require the attention and judgment of an energetic man of business.

About this time he visited California, and in crossing the Isthmus of Panama his violin case was given a native to carry, the party riding on donkeys. They soon lost sight of the man, and on arriving at Panama it was impossible to find either him or the case. The rest of the company, with Mr. Strakosch, were obliged to take the steamer, and leave Ole Bull to hunt for his instrument; but this was not his worst misfortune.

While waiting for the next steamer he fell a victim to the yellow fever, and, a riot or disturbance breaking out in the place, he was wholly neglected. One night, during the worst of his illness, he was alone, and was obliged to creep off the bed upon the floor to escape the stray bullets which crashed through the windows from the affray outside. When able to get out again, he was miserably weak, but he left for San Francisco. The advertised dates for his concerts were all pa.s.sed, and the time was unfavorable, because of the lateness of the season, but he played when his skin was so tender that it would break and bleed as he pressed the strings with his fingers. He had many amusing incidents to tell of the people and life in the far West. He kept no journal, and many of his letters written at this time were afterwards destroyed by fire.

He was now, in his broken state of health, to make a crushing discovery.

He found that the t.i.tle to the land in Pennsylvania, bought and paid for by him in full, was fraudulent, and that even the improvements he had made were a trespa.s.s on another man's property. The forests were cleared, and 800 settlers had already made their homes there. Mr.

Stewardson, a Quaker, and the rightful owner of the land, had for a long time tried to reach Ole Bull by messenger and letter; but his efforts had all been futile, so carefully had Ole Bull's business agent watched the mail, always sent to his care, and guarded him from approach. When at last the artist, on his return to Pennsylvania, was legally notified that he was trespa.s.sing, he was dumbfounded. He mounted his fine saddlehorse, and, without rest, rode to Philadelphia to see his lawyer and agent who had made the conveyance, hoping that this man's good standing in his profession, the church, and society, was a guarantee for fair and honest dealing. The latter tried to quiet his client by telling him that his papers were good, and insisted that he should eat something before they talked more about the matter. Seated at the table, Ole Bull felt a sudden aversion to the food, although faint from his long fast and ride, and he refused to eat or to drink even a cup of tea. At last the man, when faced by the desperately excited artist, who insisted upon his going with him to the claimant, Mr.

Stewardson, if the papers were right, suddenly changed his bearing, and taunted Ole Bull with his inability to do anything to help himself, saying: "I have your money; now, do your worst!" The sister of this man met Ole Bull some years later, and told him that on her brother's death bed he confessed to her that he had poisoned the food and cup of tea that he tried to persuade his client to take, and to which he had felt so strange an aversion.

Mr. Stewardson was interested in Ole Bull's efforts to found his colony, and offered to make a sale of the land at a very low price; but the artist was able only to buy enough land to protect the people already settled there, and secure the improvements. He brought a suit against the swindlers, who now became his malignant and relentless persecutors.

They tried to cripple him in every way; to prevent his concerts by arrests, and, having acted as his counsel, they were in possession of his papers and valuables, which they claimed for services rendered him, and attached his violin again and again for debt. While on a trip in the Western States, he was exposed to malarial influences along the Mississippi, and the illness which followed proved the most serious physical ailment he had ever suffered. He was finally prostrated by chills and fever, was abandoned by his manager, and later taken to a farmhouse on a prairie in Illinois, the hotelkeeper fearing to keep him, lest the disease should prove to be smallpox. He was so ill that he was delirious. As soon as he partially recovered his strength, he resumed his concerts, but the proceeds of these were swallowed up by the expense of his suit in Pennsylvania, and by the security he was often forced to give to release his violin from the attachments put upon it by his persecutors.

With untiring energy, though his health was much broken by fever and overwork, he persevered with his lawsuits, and succeeded at last in wresting some thousands of dollars from the man who had swindled him.

Five hard, struggling years were spent in this way. The help and succor he received, as often before, seemed Providential. The best legal talent came to his aid unsought, and in one instance, at least, by a strange impulse. Reading his newspaper at the breakfast table one morning, Mr.

E. W. Stoughton said to his wife: "I see that Ole Bull is in trouble, and believe I'll go into court this morning and find out about the case." He had never met the violinist personally, but he went, and just at the right moment to save some valuables and jewels, which would otherwise have been lost. A lifelong friendship commenced that day, and Ole Bull often spent weeks together with the Stoughtons. In their house he met in the most delightful way the eminent men of the Bench and Bar.

Mr. Stoughton's great and generous service to him, Ole Bull was ever delighted to mention.

The following letters written at this time will ill.u.s.trate the annoyances to which the artist was exposed:-

1 HANOVER ST., NEW YORK. _Sat.u.r.day Afternoon._

OLE BULL, ESQ.:

DEAR SIR,-Mr. Stoughton and myself fear that you may be troubled by H. tonight.

If anything occurs, please inform the bearer, Mr. --, of the nature of the occurrence, and let the officer, if you are arrested, explain to him the grounds of the arrest, and give him any papers which the officer may serve on you; and also tell him where Mr. Stoughton and myself can come and see you tonight.

Very respectfully yours, C. A. SEWARD.

The following was addressed to an eminent lawyer:-

NEW YORK, _April 16, 1857_.

DEAR SIR,-Mr. Ole Bull, for whose welfare I feel a deep interest, leaves this morning for New Haven, where he intends to give a concert this evening. A judgment has been obtained against him by a Mr. H. of this city. Upon this judgment he was arrested on Sat.u.r.day and discharged. I fear an attempt may be made to arrest him again upon the same claim in your city, and that he may be imprisoned amongst strangers. This apprehension is based upon the idea that there is a disposition to persecute him. He has lately been very ill and is not yet recovered, and I wish to preserve him from any unpleasant excitement.

The purpose of this, therefore, is to request that, should Mr. H.

inst.i.tute proceedings against Mr. Bull of the character I have suggested, you will procure for him the necessary bail and act as his counsel; and I will guarantee you and the bail you may procure against all liability, and will pay all counsel fees, and, should the bail prefer it, I will on your requirement immediately deposit in your hands an amount equal to their liability.

By doing this you will aid a most estimable and much injured and unfortunate man, and will confer a great favor upon

Yours truly, E. W. STOUGHTON.

All of Ole Bull's correspondence shows that his friends knew how apt he was to neglect his own affairs, and that they were watchful of his interests and sympathized with him in his reverses. To such a nature as his this was everything; it gave him courage-it saved him.

When worn out and ill, both from anxiety and from physical weakness, he received one day a note from Mrs. Child. She told him that she had heard of his troubles and his need of rest, and wanted him to come to her country home at once. He followed her directions implicitly like a child, taking the train she had named without even going first to his hotel. Arrived at the station he found her and her husband waiting to drive him to their home. The peace and quiet of the country, and the presence of these kind friends, were like heaven to him. Noticing probably how tired he was, they took him to his room, a chamber with a view of trees and fields beyond, the windows shaded by muslin curtains, and suggested that he should rest before going down to tea. With one look at the quiet landscape outside he threw himself on the bed. On waking he found Mrs. Child watching by his side, and started up with an apology for having kept her, as he feared, waiting too long. She smiled and told him that it was almost twentyfour hours since he had lain down for a few moments' rest. The anxiety of his friends was relieved when he woke refreshed, and, as he said, his reason saved.

The following letter will also show the help and encouragement his friends gave him at this hard period of his life:-

ANDOVER, Monday, _October 8_.

DEAR FRIEND,-We are all sitting around our centre table; the blaze of the fire flickering on the walls, and enlivening the hearth. We are recalling the pleasant hours spent in Hartford. My husband says to me-Did you indeed see Ole Bull? He has always been one of my ideals-how I wish he would come here! Why, says I, he did promise to come, perhaps:-so you see that you are not forgotten.

Do not, my dear friend, despair of human nature-nor wholly despair of America; the experience of the past has shivered so many brilliant illusions. You remember that hope remains even at the bottom of Pandora's box.

Meanwhile let me send you my husband's a.s.surance with mine that a fireside welcome is ever kept for you at the old stone cabin in Andover. It is not "the elephant," interesting as he is, but the elephant's master, that shall be made welcome-welcome for the music within, whether he choose or not to give it outward expression.

Come speak to us of the lovely fjords and dripping waterfalls and glittering lakes of Norway-and, if you come soon enough, we will take you to see our beautiful lakes in Andover.

But if you cannot come, let our invitation remain by you as a token of a place where you might rest for a while in kind and simple friendly welcome,-where you may at any time, if you choose, come and sleep a day without our troubling you with a word; in short, where you shall find rest and do exactly as you please.

n.o.body shall ask you to play a tune; n.o.body shall hinder your playing an opera; you shall come and go at will and be as free as in the wood. Liberty is about all that we keep here and that we offer.

I trust that your affairs in New York are not going ill; but however they go, let me hope that you will be borne above this world. G.o.d is light, and in Him is no darkness at all. When we perish with hunger there is always bread enough to spare in our Father's house.

With kindliest feelings and remembrances,

Truly yours, H. B. STOWE.

James Gordon Bennett had been most kind to Ole Bull from the time of his first visit to the United States. When at that time the friends of Vieuxtemps were a.s.sailing him by personal attacks as well as musical criticism, Mr. Bennett called, and offered the columns of the _Herald_ for any answer Ole Bull might like to make. With a warm pressure of the hand, he replied in his broken English: "I tink, Mr. Benneett, it is best tey writes against me and I plays against tem." "You're right, Ole Bull, quite right," said the editor with a laugh; "but remember the _Herald_ is always open to you." The following characteristic quotation is from one of Mr. Bennett's notes: "I am happy you are again so successful. You, and you only, can raise the devil or the angels."

This brief note from Thalberg may be inserted here:-

NEW YORK, _26th Decembre, 1856_.

MON CHER OLE BULL,-Ulmann vous aura dit, que jusqu'a present il m'a ete impossible d'aller vous voir malgre toute l'envie que j'en avais; il me fait travailler comme un negre, et m'empeche meme d'aller voir mes amis. J'ai ete desole de vous savoir malade sans meme pouvoir vous offrir mes services.-Lundi prochain, par extraordinaire, j'aurai quelque liberte, et j'en profiterai pour venir causer avec vous et de vous a.s.surer de vive voix de mes sentimens les plus devoues.

Tout a vous, S. THALBERG.

A volume of Theodore Parker's sermons, with an affectionate word of presentation, is among the mementos of his Boston visits.

The press of the country, as well as friends, gave him warm expressions of confidence and sympathy. A Philadelphia paper said, among other things, of a two hours' interview with Ole Bull:-

He speaks of his wrongs with the most forbearing disposition, and shrinks from thrusting them before the public and making himself an object of sympathy. He has always firmly refused to do so, believing that justice in his case will ultimately triumph without any advent.i.tious aid from a sympathizing public.

The _Evening Post_, of New York, for March 9, 1857, said:-

The Norwegian made his appearance last evening at Dodsworth Hall, and once more exercised his spell of musical witchery over a crowded audience. His wellknown ident.i.ty with his violin, playing on it as if the strings of his heart were strained over it, seems to be as perfect as ever, while the new story that his heart has to tell-the troubles and reverses he has undergone since he last played among us-seems to be faithfully added to its expression. He played with more intensity of concentration in the pa.s.sages of force and vivid rapidity, while his lingerings upon the sadder and more pathetic strains were indescribably truthful in their mournfulness. It is the peculiarity of Ole Bull, and perhaps the secret of his charm over the sympathies of his audience, that all he plays seems so faithfully autobiographic. His expressive face tells the same story as his violin. The listeners to his music last night were evidently completely absorbed in the study of the _man_; and it is a strong warranty for the renewal of his success that he can now exercise, even better than before, his wonderful personal magnetism. His history and present position, we may as well add, fully ent.i.tle him to the sympathy for which his violin pleads so expressively.

In 1856, the violinist's eldest son had joined him, and had been most kindly received by his father's friends. Many notes, still preserved, attest the thoughtful attentions given them when ill and confined to their beds, as they both were in New York that season.

When Ole Bull gave his last concerts in Dodsworth Hall, in New York, in 1857, he was so ill that he had to be helped on and off the stage, and occasionally the applause of the audience alone kept him roused to consciousness, so weak was he from the chills and fever. No suffering ever kept him from appearing when announced, if he could possibly do it; and in his long experience he used to say with pride that he had, almost without fail, kept all his engagements with the public. He now decided that he must try what his native air would do for him, and in the autumn he returned to Bergen. He found that unfavorable reports had preceded him, and where he ought only to have met with sympathy at home, he sometimes found suspicion. It was said that he had speculated ruthlessly at the expense of his countrymen, and that they were the only sufferers by his misfortunes. American inst.i.tutions and tendencies were not at all popular among a large cla.s.s in Norway at that day, and Republican liberty, it was said, meant only license. Poor in health and purse, Ole Bull's homecoming was not to be envied. Mother Nature was the same, however, and he soon gained strength and courage from his native mountain air. He resumed his direction of the theatre, having engaged Bjornstjerne Bjornson as dramatic instructor, which gave the enterprise a strong and fresh impulse. Bjornson had recently published "Synnove Solbakken" and "Arne," which latter he dedicated to Ole Bull.

A. O. Winje wrote him:-

CHRISTIANIA, _20th February, 1860_.